


Goodnight Kiss

by halfpastmonsoon



Category: Catch-22 - Joseph Heller
Genre: Canon Compliant, Forehead Kisses, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-10
Updated: 2018-11-10
Packaged: 2019-08-21 15:31:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16579238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halfpastmonsoon/pseuds/halfpastmonsoon
Summary: It shouldn't be this difficult to get a drunk man to sleep.





	Goodnight Kiss

**Author's Note:**

> Another old tumbllr crosspost, now with fixed typoes!

Yossarian tiredly approached his tent. He was exhausted partially because he ended up getting himself into a fistfight, somehow, and partially because he was forced to carry Orr, who was too tipsy and sleepy to walk, in his arms. The upside to that was the fact he was less talkative than usually, and thanks to that Yossarian didn’t have to say anything either. He didn’t exactly have the energy to play along with Orr’s bizarre train of thought and the endless teasing about questions he wasn’t going to answer anyway.

He looked down at Orr, who was clinging onto him, arms wrapped around his neck, eyes semi-closed. Yossarian was never quite able to decipher Orr’s emotions, mainly because it seemed like he was almost always smiling, no matter the situation. Unless he was genuinely angry, which he got to witness earlier that day, and also on the day Milo took them both shopping and refused to let them sleep properly. Even then, though, the annoyance seemed to pass quickly. He just needed a distraction, usually his godforsaken horse chestnuts or crab apples were enough. They always seemed to pop out of nowhere exactly when Orr could taunt Yossarian with them.

Luckily, it seemed like it wasn’t going to be the case this time, because, within the next minute, Yossarian could simply throw Orr onto the bed and pray that he’d fall asleep instantly and, given Orr’s already only semi-conscious state, it could realistically work.

Yossarian’s arms were giving out by that point, so he was grateful that they’d practically made it already. Orr wasn’t particularly heavy – he was a whole foot shorter than Yossarian, and on top of that wasn’t of a particularly heavy build. Now that he though about it, that made the attack on Appleby all the more surprising. It didn’t seem like Orr would be strong enough to do this much damage, but, he thought, it made some sense knowing he took Appleby by surprise.

After making a mental note to never get on Orr’s bad side when he’s drunk, he entered the tent and sighed.

"We’re home,” he felt like he should announce that just to check if Orr is still awake. Apparently he was, since Yossarian received a slurred response he couldn’t understand a word of, but which was a sign of life at least.

He approached Orr’s bed and sat on it. His arms were still supporting Orr’s torso and legs, and Orr’s were still clinging onto his shoulders, so he let go and unwrapped him gently and put him in the bed. He didn’t go as far as to tuck him in. It seemed like he fell asleep already regardless, so Yossarian, who somehow wasn’t sleepy yet, decided to examine his body to check for damage. He took of his shirt and looked at his left arm, still a bit sore from carrying Orr all the way.

"Did you get hurt?”

Yossarian jumped in his seat and turned to Orr, who was watching him intently with a small grin. Yossarian shuddered.

"A bit,” he replied "but I’ll be fine.”

Orr sat up on the bed, seemingly full of energy again. He looked at Yossarian’s exposed arm curiously and snickered.

"Thanks for helping me beat up Appleby, but I could have done it myself.”

"I know,” Yossarian thought, shuddering, but out loud he said: "Why did you have to start that fight anyway?” even though he had the terrifying feeling that he already knew the answer.

Orr scoffed and crossed his arms. "I couldn’t let somebody who has flies in his eyes win against me,” at which Yossarian groaned automatically, which in turn made Orr giggle with satisfaction. Yossarian looked over at him again.

"You’re drunk. You should sleep,” he insisted hopelessly, putting his short back on. "I’ll try to sleep too.”

Orr shook his head and chuckled. "I should keep working on the stove, actually. I don’t have time to waste.” As he said that, he made a movement that suggested he was genuinely going to get up and continue working. Yossarian panicked and reached out his hand, placed it firmly on Orr’s shoulder, and gently pushed him back onto the bed.

"You really can’t do that. If you do, I will have to kill you.”

Orr giggled.

"Let’s make a deal.”

Yossarian groaned, again. Orr somehow always managed to trick him whenever they made a deal, and he didn’t doubt that even in this state, he was capable of messing with his head.

"I will go to sleep now, if…”

"…if?” Yossarian inquired cautiously. Orr chuckled, covering his mouth.

"If you kiss me goodnight,” he blurted out with satisfaction.

Yossarian felt his face turning red, and he realised Orr noticed that too. He covered his mouth with his hand and bit his lip. He knew Orr was staring at him with that goofy smile of his.

"Kiss you…goodnight?” he mumbled. "Where?” he asked without thinking.

"Anywhere,” Orr was definitely having fun with this. And Yossarian couldn’t even get annoyed.

He wanted to scream, but that didn’t seem sensible. He was aware that his feelings towards Orr were all over the place. At times, he genuinely considered murdering him, usually in situations like these, when he knew Orr will get his way and there’s nothing he can do. No matter how many times he told Orr not to tinker when he was around, he still would. No matter how many times he told him not to put anything in his mouth, he still would. But his feelings overall were far from negative. Many times, he found himself worrying more than he expected, or jumping to Orr’s defence, like today. He felt there are many things in the world he should be protecting Orr from, but he also felt like there are many things Orr can do that he can’t. Actually, he realised, he’s probably never been as close to anyone as he was to Orr. And, he also realised, Orr knew all that, everything that was going through Yossarian’s head and happening in his heart, he somehow always knew, while he could never figure out neither the thoughts nor feelings of his small buck-toothed tentmate.

Yossarian, who was looking at the floor for the past minute or so, looked over at Orr. His wavy hair was messy, his bulging eyes had dark bags under them, and he was still smiling widely, showing off his big teeth. Yossarian’s gaze lingered on that spot for too long, which he realised when Orr started giggling again. He blushed again, but he made up his mind.

"Alright,” he said, "but close your eyes, and no peeking.”

"You have my word.”

Yossarian knew that Orr might ignore that instruction, as he usually does, but he didn’t care that much. He exhaled and leaned forward. Part of him was careful not to squish Orr, who might be an annoying apple-cheeked bastard, but didn’t deserve to die like this. Not yet, at least.

His face was right above Orr’s now, and he used that opportunity to take a close look at some of his features. Specifically, he had never realised his eyelashes were that long before, or that his nose and cheeks were actually covered in faint freckles. He gulped. This was taking too long.

"Oh well,” he sang in his head, imitating McWatt, "what the hell,” and leaned forward.

His lips hit the top of Orr’s head, his thick hair tickling his nose and chin. He felt Orr vibrating slightly underneath him. He was either really happy, or really amused. Yossarian couldn’t tell, and that prompted him to pull away. He quickly stood up, glancing at the other’s face, with, of course, wide open eyes and a grin. Yossarian coughed.

"Goodnight,” he mumbled before jumping into his bed. He heard Orr’s giggly "goodnight” right before he fell asleep.


End file.
